Some Lives Don’t Matter

Some Lives Don’t Matter.

 

Sam is a young man you would trust and instinctively warm to, someone who can handle himself and has a quiet assurance. Those traits suited the gang who recruited him for county lines work.

So when Sam left HMP Walton he was offered train tickets and heroin to sell in the Market Town of Macclesfield. Assisted by Thomas, who had made the move a few years earlier, but was back on the gear.

 

So the plan; pack Sam’s bags and sell the gear across county lines. Trip to the Market town of Mack to sell the smack.

 

All works well for a few months or weeks, who knows. Our boys don’t realize their street dealing makes them stand out like, well like street drug dealers. Plus there are few mixed race lads in Macc. It’s a brown town but only in bags.

 

So. Tom using with his girlfriend. He was one of 8. Mum had enough by the time Tom was 2. Dad gave up work to bring up the kids but it was too much. Tom left Liverpool for Bacup, to look after his big sisters kids, she was working and her partner was sentenced to 20 years for an attempt murder. Things were good until he lost his job. So back to the Pool. Back on the gear for Tom. He managed to escape to Macc. But kept his contacts and Sam came too.

Tom. Kicked off after a racist insult too much and got a 3. Was tapped up in Prison. It was all he could do.

 

 

Ho hum so hum drum. Tom and Sam, have made nothing. The gear and the cash and the phones are all those up the chain. The cash is accounted for and well. You work for others.

Charged with Possession with intent to supply class A Drugs. Sam, on license went down for 4 (years.) Sam negotiated a plea to allowing premises to be used blah blah. 35 weeks, result.

Tom was sanguine. He’s got a PT certificate. His family have disowned him. But he’s optimistic for a new start. Sam well. Back on the gear.

 

The Judge didn’t look up. Some lives don’t matter.

Some Lives Don’t Matter.